Wandering
by PhantomLilac
Summary: After eight years of abusive marriage, Christine takes her son Gustave with her in divorce from Raoul, telling her child the truth: Raoul is not his father. This story seen through the eyes of the young child takes you from his early memories to his adventure to Coney Island. A long-thought dead Erik emerges as the now even more powerful Mister Y. Does love truly never die? E/C
1. Chapter 1

My early memories of childhood weren't so lovely, now that I look back on it.  
My mother and father hated each other.

I would cry, naturally as I was a toddler, and papa would spank me or slap me. Mother would yell at him and it'd always end up with more tears and violence.

Then I turned five, and my mum would sit beside me and teach me how to play violin.  
"It was saved from a fire in an Opera House once. Belonged to your grandfather. Here, Gustave, put your thumb down right there..."

She wasn't amazing at the violin, she only knew simple tunes. She said my grandfather died and I was named after him.

That, other than my rotten, no good father, was the other thing I loathed about my life. I didn't want to be named after a dead man. I wanted to be someone other than Gustave the moment I learned that little tidbit of fact.

But she continued talking.

"And your middle name, Erik, was named after my friend," she seemed to choke on her words, "who died in that fire."

So growing up, I always had the names Gustave Daae and Erik Mulheim hidden in the back of my mind. I didn't know that sooner or later I would end up finding out the truth behind Mister Erik's alleged 'death'.

As I aged onto seven, my mother began, for the first time I had ever seen her do this, pin her curly brown hair up under the insistence of my papa. She objected at first, wanting to keep her wavy locks down, but papa only screamed and beat her again.

The next year passed and I turned eight. Even darker a year was to pass through, as after my papa, in his drunken stupor, raised a hand to hit me, my mother yelled something at him, snapping at last, that would change my world forever.

"Don't you touch him ever again, Raoul! He's not yours!"

Papa had stumbled, dazed at her furious words, and grew bitter.

"You...slept with _him_, didn't you? It's the Phantom you love, the Phantom you'll get. Our marriage is through!"

"Good!"

I ran forward and hugged her, bawling senselessly as Papa gathered my things then marched us out the door.

We went to this place called court. My parents were separated now at last...well, my mother and former step-father.

As we sat in our seats for the boats, I got the courage to ask her now what was going to happen to us.

"Mama, who is my papa? Where are we going now?"

She smiled fondly, stroking her hand through my chestnut hair.

"I got a letter from an old friend, Meg. I told her about what's happened and we're going to stay in America. She's certain her master will give me a position, she said."

My eyes had brightened. I had read about America in a school book. I entwined my fingers with the edge of the ticket. It read in bold letters:

**Coney Island, New York. AMERICA SEAWAY. Phantasma docking port.**

I sighed in relief. Today would start a new life in America, and I would meet my auntie Meg. But now, a deep sadness was pressuring my heart. She seemed edgy and reluctant to answer my question about my real father.

"Mother...is my papa dead?"

Tears jerked through her eyes at last as she nodded, pulling out my grandfather's black violin case and stroking it gently with her fingertips.

"Remember what I told you about the Opera House fire?" she whispered. Painfully I nodded, fearing and knowing what she was about to say.

"Your papa was Erik Mulheim. He died before we could marry and raise you together."

Mama whimpered, pulling me close. A fond spot in my heart tore in two. I had understood why she married Raoul, then, as she had told me about how my stepfather and she had met on his vacation to Sweden. She wanted me to have a father...

Raoul couldn't deliver anything my mother asked of him. It wasn't an equal marriage, it was a dictatorship.

But now we were free to leave to America. There was no turning back.

I was headed for a road of happiness.


	2. Chapter 2

We arrived at last. My hand was wrapped around firmly to my mother's as we strode dignantly to the wooden pier. Mother helped me down from the ship, my small luggage bag in one hand.

As she lifted her face to get a clear view, it widened into a grin I had missed for ages.

"Meg!" she called, tugging me along hurriedly. We stopped in front of this petite blonde woman who looked about the same age as my mum. This was how I would always remember Meg as. Cute, sweet, very quirky, and fun-loving was the way I wish it'd always had been.

"Christine! Hello! And is this Gustave?" she squealed. When Christine nodded, Meg's eyes scanned me over until they widened.

"Is he...Erik's?" I didn't understand at first why she was so afraid.

"Yes. He is. Gustave, say hello to your Aunt Meg."

I shyly smiled, opening my mouth to speak.

"Hello, Auntie-"

"Meg, honey, I've been looking for you. He had another temper flare and-oh. Miss Christine, hello." a very thick, persian accented voice cut in.

"Nadir, good to see you. I must've got a double deal today, two old friends in one."

Nadir was a funny character, I will never forget him even though he's still around. He had been engaged to Meg, if memory serves. He was tall, slender, and had a turban atop his head. Eyes were jade and envious as emeralds, his skin a deep olive tone. He had known my father for the longest of anyone, even surpassing my mother, and had a loyal though annoyance of a friendship with him.

I smiled.

"Hello Mister..." I began once more, but trailed off, not sure how to address him.

"Mister Khan. Pleasure, I've heard much about you. Gustave, was it?"

Just as Meg had, he observed me top to bottom, his eyes locking with mine. They narrowed in suspicion, then eased up in a glance at my mother. Something in my mind told me he knew some even mum didn't.

A few days passed and I was cooped up in the home of Nadir and Meg. The ladies chattered and diligently babbled whilst Nadir kept a close eye on them.

"Women are like birds, they can get aggressive unless I clip their feathers." he explained jokingly. Only being eight, I didn't understand at all.

"Mum, can I go exploring outside?" I had asked. She nodded briefly.

"Don't go far, come back at sundown!"

I was used to these commands in Paris. Not far, right at sundown. Got it. I scurried up a tree in the backyard, when I realized I could see the ocean. I wanted to get closer. My mother adored shells. I decided I should retrieve her one!

Except...when I got into town, I was unable to see the ocean. Freaks roamed the streets, and I was utterly alone and lost.

I began to panic as I backed into an alley, only to bump into someone who, like me, gasped in alarm. I saw the figure back into the shadows, but the dimming light, as the sun already began to set to my distress, showed a pair of cat-like golden eyes, gleaming and glistening in the shadows.

"I'm sorry, I'm lost." I whimpered. The figure blinked.

"Er...where is your mother?" his voice had a hypnotizing and angelic quality to it, but it was automatically filled with concern for me, which, like a lot of things as a child lost in a scary world of reality, I did not understand.

"Back home. I can't find the way back. Are you okay?"

He resurfaced from the darkness, and the first thing I took note of was indeed his white mask covering half his face.

"I'm fine. I'll escort you home, if you'd prefer. What's your name?" Immediately, the worry turned to tender and soft.

"Gustave. Yours, sir?"

He smiled.

"I'm Mister Y."


	3. Chapter 3

I smiled back at this strange and friendly man.

Mister Y winced when I reached out and took his hand, pulling him all the way out. He was limping, one of his arms pulled underneath a loose tuxedo coat.

"What's wrong with your hip?" I asked innocently, and before he could stop me I lifted it open. It was a sight I never needed to see. Blood...fresh blood. The poor man was trying to hide a stab wound.

"M-mister Y...I want to help you. Please let me take you to my mama. She's a good nurse."

Reluctantly he nodded, lost for words, as I took his hand.

After wandering for a bit, he spoke again.

"You said you were lost. Is there anyone else staying with you I may know by name?" he quietly murmured. I stared up at the man, whose condition was weakening. He was panting, and pouting slightly.

"Mister Khan-"

"Gustave, you happen to know Nadir?" His curiosity and suspicion grew.

I nodded. "Of course."

He snickered, "I happen to know where he lives."

As soon as I approached the doorway, I heard the voices of my mother and aunt. From his pocket, Mister Y fumbled and turned away briefly. When he turned back around, he had on a black mask of midnight.

"I don't know your mother yet, and I would rather remain, well, undercover. No one is supposed to know who I am," he explained. I nodded and tugged him along again, and he stopped again.

"Send Nadir for me." he added hastily, pressing against the wall back into some more shadows. If I tried to move him or get him to come, he might pass out on the pavement. He looked even further pain, so I instead walked casually through the door.

"Gustave! Young man, where have you been?" Mother shouted. I sighed, bowing my head.

"I saw the ocean from my tree perch. It didn't look far, so I wanted to fetch you seashells. But Mister Y showed me home!" I replied. Her once-red face turned to relief and tiredness. She shook her head.

"Don't...don't wander off again."

She would've said more, probably to send me to bed, but Mister Khan interjected us with his startling and shocked tone.

"Where is Er-uh-Mister Y right now?" he demanded.

"Waiting in the front lawn. He's hurt." I answered. I didn't, like usual, understand his anger and frustration.

"Christine, it's best you go to your room, not to be rude. Mister Y is a very violent man." Meg mused as Mister Khan shut the front door behind him.

Mother just stared.

"I doubt it, if he helped Gustave home."

Meg realized her error and tried to (in failure) correct it.

"W-well, you see...he's a soft spot for children but he yells at everyone else."

The door pushed open again, and I smiled gleefully, expecting Mister Y to feel better now, but I was faced with him whimpered in pain.

"Meg, prepare the attic. Now." Mister Khan sounded even angrier.

"Nadir...It was the other park's men. They did this..." Mister Y growled through gritted teeth. What other park?

My mother didn't recognize Mister Y, instead retreating to another room. My mother suspected her friends were hiding something from her, but she wouldn't deceive them by dishonoring their hospitality to us.

"Mister Khan, I'll help you take Mister Y up the attic, if you'd like." I squeaked nervously. Mister Khan recoiled, as if nervous and frightened, but Mister Y spoke first.  
"This boy is my savior. Let him help if that's what he wants." he snorted. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder for support, while Nadir held onto his other. After lots of uneasy steps we finally made it to his bedside. I left after Nadir poured whiskey over the wound and sewed it shut. Mister Y had insisted we not take him to a hospital for reasons not so clear.

As I walked down the stairs, I moved aside for Nadir to pass. I watched him vanish down the hall, and seconds later, my mother appeared. She didn't seem to see me or bother talking to me, as she was suspicious and went straight for Mister Y's room...


	4. Chapter 4

Without another word, I slipped into the most hidden corner of the room, intent on listening and watching. What was my mum doing? And why was Mister Y so familiar?

She was dressed as a maid, the same costume the day before Meg had shown to her from a vaudeville number. I don't know how she got a hold of it. I slunk down, watching her dust around the room, her eyes veering over to Mister Y in suspicion.

"So you're Mister Y?" I realized she was disguising her voice with a flawless French accent, even though my mum had always talked in a British one. She had explained to me that her mother had been an English tourist in Sweden when she met my mother's papa.

Not only that, but she had taken one of the beautiful decorative masks from the walls. One that covered her face entirely.

"Yes. Why? Who are you?" he weakly croaked, eyes averting in a suspenseful way.

"The better question is, why is Nadir and Meg hiding you from everyone? Your wound needs a doctor care. Not mediocre stitches. I am also a nurse."

"You'll kill me if you knew who I am."

She sniggered in an almost evil way. Immediately I was confused by this side of my mother who I always thought was pure and good.

"Oh yes, I bet I would. But you'd kill me if you knew what I've done too."

He sighed, knowing he had no way other than to admit the truth.

"You want to know something, madame? I have suffered more than you. I made terrible choices. I left the woman I loved because I was afraid of what would happen between us, and faked my death so she wouldn't follow me. Some ghosts never go away," he admitted with a cold stare.

Without another word, one hand was pinned to his chest, keeping the weak Mister Y to the bed, the other grabbed the corner of his mask and ripped it clean off.

I was nearly horrified. Nearly. For what I saw on the half side of his face was scarring, almost as if they were hell's burn marks. But I had seen a very similar appearing beggar, except the scarring was all over his head and I pitied the beggar. So I now was sorry for Mister Y.

"So now you know. I am a fraud. Mister Y isn't even my name!" he choked.

"Ange, I already knew who you were," Mother cooed, and pulled away her own mask. Mister Y gasped as she cupped his face.

"No, this can't be happening! Please tell me it's a dream."

She shook her head, and pulled him forward into a kiss.

No! Why was Mother kissing a man she hardly knew!? I jumped out of my hiding place, shocked and surprised at both of them.

"Mother, what are you doing!?" I cried out. Their kiss was now halted as both stared at me.

"This is Erik, Gustave...Erik Mulheim."

Mister Y was my papa then? I had just met the man, and although he was nice...this didn't make sense. Nothing of Mister Y looked like me, and vice versa. We were totally different, and I was now lost in my own world.


	5. Chapter 5

Each passing day, my mother didn't muster the courage to tell Mister Y that I, Gustave deChagney, wasn't even a deChagney at all.

As a young child, I loathed how close Mother was to my newfound papa. I felt ignored, unloved, the way suddenly she was bathing him in kisses and hugs. Mister Y would shyly brush them off with a rose red blush showing through.

She'd tease or baby my papa when his stab wound was healing.

Then one day, Mister Y didn't come home from work. Mother decided to look for him, and left me home with Meg.

"Aunt Meg, can we go see Grandmother Giry now?" I whined. The kitchen smelled oddly of saltiness and something metallic.

"Grandmama Giry is busy today. Go play outside for all I care," she muttered. She was frustratingly brushing something I couldn't see from her hands, but I left her alone and decided once again to go play in the backyard.

I sat for a long time on the soft green swing set, looking at the clouds. I could almost see the faces of parents in them...

Then there was a loud scream. It sounded not too far away, but not close either.

"Help! Heeeeelp!"

My heart began to ache. Someone would save whoever it was. I was just a little kid, what more could I do? In class we were taught to dial 911 on the...what was it called? Telly? I darted in retreat to my room, picking up the telly and winding it to the right numbers.

"Hello?" I cried, "this is an emergency. Someone is being attacked near my house.

**Erik's POV**

I was walking home from work, just like any other day. My stab wound was healed at last...those selfish idiots from Starlight Park will be sorry they did this! But my angel, Christine, had saved me again...I don't know how. I don't know when, but she was suddenly there beside me. God had blessed me to keep her at my side.

And that little boy-Gustave was it? I was expecting the worst the moment I saw his eyes were golden I have been counting on the days my Christine would finally confess. I knew Gustave was my son, and I think the poor child already knows it as well. I am a monster and he was, as his mother, an angel.

My thoughts were interrupted by a scream.

"Help! Heeeeelp!"

Without another word, I vanished like a snake into the shadows, slithering my way into the darkness and following the sound.

"Help me, please! Help!"

It was coming from the Aerie. I knew by the direction. Who had gotten into my automaton workshop? A thief, maybe. Or...I would hate to think little Gustave had entered and one fell on him.

I opened the door and shut it behind me.

"Hello!" I called into the depths of blackness, "Is anyone in there?"

Before I could move any further, my wrists were grabbed out from behind me and pinned to my back. Some cloth-a bandana perhaps, was forced around my mouth.

What was going on!?

"You thought I'd give up, did'cha, Phantom? Well a deChagney always keeps his eyes on the prize. For revenge on Christine, I'll just have to make both of you suffer eternal separation. You bedded her, you demon! She would've stayed with me if it weren't for you!" a way too familiar voice snarled in my ear.

Change of plan. I wasn't blessed... I was cursed, to bear whatever torture the Vicomte had in store for me.


	6. Chapter 6

(Here's where it becomes a three POV story. It will focus mainly on Gustave, but I have to have the other two, Erik and Christine, have their own part too. You'll see why for the next few chapters, happy writing everyone~

And sorry for the late updates, I am currently on vacation with limited internet access, so the internet I do get is spazzy and I'm lucky to have posted the chapters I have already.)

Christine's POV

I heard voices coming from the Aerie. Voices, vaguely familiar.

"She would have stayed with me if it weren't for you!"

Raoul!?

BOOM! With an explosion, my Erik's beautiful workshop lit in flames, beginning with the only entrance I knew of.

"ANGE!" I screamed, having fallen flat onto the sidewalk pavement from the force of the workshop exploding. Its crumbling debris were falling around me, and I coughed vigorously, my lungs fighting against the swirls of smoke and embers breezing past me.

"Erik! Where are you?" I cried. Instead in the deep gray clouds surrounding my collapsed body, a hand stuck out, a papery object being forced into my grip, and just like that, vanished.

By now, firefighters had arrived. A doctor was instructing me to breathe. Everything was a daze. Raoul had my Erik. I knew just what he wanted to do. He wanted to take him and sell him for ransom, the infamous Phantom of the Opera, after I had fought so hard to find my love again.

"Miss Daae, deep breaths!"

"No, no, I need him! Raoul has him-please..." I deliriously cried. I think I must've tried to, in my weakened state, punch one of my doctors, for a needle entered my elbow and everything grew woozy.

I passed out cold.

Erik's POV

"And how do you like to escape again, Monsieur Le Phantom?" Raoul whispered tauntingly in my ear. The grip binding my wrists grew tighter, and I, if my mouth wasn't gagged back, would've gasped in utterly disheartening pain.

"Oh right, explosions and trap doors!" he continued. I watched, fear clinging to my heart, as he hit some switches on the wall behind us. He must've just installed them recently, for I liked old fashion locks over these new switch inventions...

Raoul even tighter kept a grip on my ensnared wrists. I couldn't run or move, because from underneath me the ground opened in one quick succession and shut above us. We didn't fall far...but it was enough that I could hear the loud BANG from above us.

"ANGE!"

Christine! I tried to alert her, but it was muffled. The fop beside me began to cackle horrendously.

"Well monsieur, I heard you like being in a cage. How about the basement of my home in Paris, where customers can pay to see you chained in your natural habitat!? Oh, is that the former Viscountess herself crying over you? I hope she rots in hell for what she did with you. And that little brat of yours will die with her!" Raoul stated with a sneer

I finally found the strength to fend him off, kicking my way free and spitting the garment from my mouth.

"Shut up, you drooling drunken idiot," I howled, then began to cry out as he began to beat me black and blue.

"Christine! I'm here, Christine! Get Nadir...get..."

The cloth gag was placed over my mouth, which wasn't necessary because by now I was too tired to fight back any further. Raoul hauled me to my feet and half-dragged me along, as the other half was me limping, nauseous and dizzy.

Gustave's POV

Next thing I knew, I was sitting at my mother's side. Within a few hours, the doctors released her, as she fortunately had taken no damage from the eerie explosion at The Aerie.

I knew why she was sad, though.

Mister Y was gone.

"Honey, just like Mister Y, I am going away for a while. You'll stay with Uncle Nadir and Aunt Meg for the meantime." she cooed, though her eyes never met mine.

"Mother, what happened to Mister Y? Why do you have to go away?" I objected pleadingly. Faintly, she smiled, though it was full of dishonesty.

"Your father is being sent to a special hospital to treat some bad wounds. I'm going to go stay with him and make sure he's okay when they give him surgery." Mother lied. I cocked my eyebrows, but she did not seem to notice.

I sighed. Uncle Nadir and Aunt Meg were fun sometimes, but both were busy. Grandma Giry was nice too but very stern at the same time.

I missed my actually fun mum, who spent every passing moment filling my thoughts with endless wonder. Now she was hovering around my real father like a lovesick puppy, and it confused me. I felt neglected, ignored. I was sad.

Mister Y on the other hand was very mysterious, kind of a keep-to-himself person, but when he's with my mother, he's overjoyed, happy, or otherwise cheery. I think he knows I'm his son, because of the way he likes to read to me or weave tales of adventure to rouse me into wanting to go to bed.

_"Stupid boy! You'll pay for breaking that vase!"_

_I leapt to my feet, running from my Papa. Instead of Raoul, it was Mister Y, and he flicked out a knife._

_"I'll make you as ugly as a Phantom!" The voice wasn't Mister Y's though. In fact, now it was Aunt Meg, and I was pushed off a pier into the gurgling ocean below..._

_"Gustave!"_

"Gustave!" Meg shook me awake. It wasn't my mum at my bedside, to my disappointment.

"Wha-where's mother? Where's Mister Y? I want my parents!" I wailed like a unkept child. Well. I was a child.

Meg instantly went into this motherly mode, to my surprise, pulling me in a hug.

"They're going to Paris. Mister Y's in trouble and could get really hurt, so your mum is going to fetch him. Why don't you come downstairs and have some hot cocoa to help you sleep?" she asked quietly.

I weakly nodded, exhausted from my tossing and turning.

My papa and mama would be home soon, right?


	7. Chapter 7

**Erik's POV**

The lulling of the waves lapping against the small vessel would've calmed me immediately, but when I finally roused, I was filled with fury to find I was bound to a chair in the blazing sun.

"Like my ship, Monsieur? It's little, I know...but useful. The deChagney mansion has its own port. You'll love your cell in the basement. I have nice iron doors and even better, 7 inch thick glass surrounding it. Looks like I beat the Phantom at his own game!"

When I heard Raoul's voice, I realized my mouth was still gagged back, and where I was seated. I was on the deck, tied down beside him to this chair, unable to fight back while he used the wheel.

He grinned cheekily, tossing his golden brown hair in the sun as if tauntingly.

"By the way, you've been out for at least three days. I knocked you across the head with a steel bar to make sure you didn't wake up for a while. Can you see the manor from here? I can." he chattered on like a parrot. He was awfully talkative today. That worried me a bit.

"So tell me, Monsieur, how has Christine been? You two have probably been romping around in the covers like animals. What a traitorous rat. And Gustave, how is the boy? Oh wait, you can't talk. Lemme help."

He let go of the wheel, to my shock, and walked down towards me, ripping the garment from my sore jaws.

I hated to admit he was partially true...Christine and I had a few blissful moments. But romping as he suggested? No. I was too much of a gentleman... although I was not an arrogant Vicomte.

"You bloody idiot! You're gonna kill both of us if you don't keep steering!" I shrieked as the ship on its own turned a violent sharp left. My chair nearly toppled over. Raoul, the dumb fop he was, rolled his eyes and returned to the wheel.

"Pfft. Whatever. One day I will convert you into an obedient servant, you could be my pet Butler!" he squealed.

I knew immediately he was either pretty stupid or drunk. I went with drunk.

"Did you treat Christine this way, too? You can try to kill me, but you won't get away with this. The Phantom ALWAYS wins, Vicomte!" I snarled viscously. I flexed my hands, trying to reach for the knife in my back pocket.

Oh no! The Vicomte had taken my things, and slipped away my pocket knife. Curse him! Curse him to hell!

"Trying to find this?"

He held my shiny blade up in the air, and I gritted my teeth as he tossed it into the depths below.

"You took my knife. Clever move."

He didn't seem to notice, for he went right back to chattering. I tried to drown it out with my own thoughts.

Christine had to have heard me. She's sending Nadir for me...they'll intercept the ship, they'll get me home...

"Look! We're here!" Raoul screamed, which I swear had shattered my ear drums, for they began to ring horribly. I was released from the chair, hands bound still to my back, as he shoved me along.

"I fired my old butler, because I'm hiring you! I have a talented friend who knows hypnosis. I have sent for a porcelain worker to make you a nicer mask. A midnight black one. Black was the main color of Christine and I's wedding, you know. When we made sweet love afterwards...mmm..."

I coughed awkwardly to bring my kidnapper back to reality.

"Oh right, I forgot, that was the night I thought we conceived Gustave, but instead it was yours!" Raoul babbled on.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" I taunted with a malicious sneer.

"What?"

"You're jealous because I have a life and family. And you don't." I continued foolishly. I knew I was stubborn, but I wouldn't back down for a chance to make Raoul feel bad about himself. Never.

"You take that back you bastard!" Raoul screeched.

"Why should I take back the truth? How wonderful it feels to have Christine under me because she wants to be...not marital rape."

That was a little too off edge for the Vicomte, for next thing you knew, he punched me across the face when we were halfway up the hidden stairway up the cliffside.

"You ever sleep with that wench again and I will find and kill you, do you understand?"

Once again I was kicked in the chest, to which I let out a short cry of pain as he led me towards his home.

**Christine's POV**

I rubbed my grumbling stomach, slowly trudging towards the passing gates. I was back in Paris, a place I had dreaded for so long.

I scoured my way through the familiar pathways, knowing around every mossy garden step I was closer to my Erik.

My heart was racing in anxiety. This dock took me very close to the estate I had once lived in, the deChagney townhouse. The manor was huge. How would I find Erik in it? I didn't even quite know the passages myself.

"If it isn't zat Preeeemah' Donnah' herzelf! Vot do you want, Mees'a Daae?"

It was a voice I never thought I'd hear again. It was Carlotta, the former opera diva.

"Carlotta, please, help me find my fiancee, Raoul took him-are you...a maid?" I began to plead to her, but I cut myself when I realized she was fancily dressed in a black-and-white uniform.

"Jezz, I am. After your Opera Ghost burned my job down, I had to become the Vicomte's maid to make a living. Vy should I help you?" she snorted.

"I can get you a job in America. But please, Erik, my love...he's in there! Carlotta, what is Raoul going to do to him!?"

She understood the desperation in my voice immediately, sighing gently.

"First, let's dye your hair blonde. I will introduce you as my cousin from Italy, Jeanette." Carlotta mumbled, tossing away some of her loose curly red hair.

.::.

It took a few hours, but Carlotta hid me away in the bushes where I waited for a few hours in silence. From the manor, I could hear viscous yelling.

_"You stupid fop! You could've killed both of us! Again!"_

_"Like you haven't had a gunpowder accident before, you rotten Phantom!"_

It was Erik and Raoul's voices, which gave me hope. Erik was being wryly sarcastic as usual, and Raoul...just evil, twisted, demented.

"I am coming, Erik, no matter how hard it will be, I will free you." I declared.

Carlotta returned at last, leading me down a hidden cliffside staircase.

"Vee'll dye your hair by the sea. I 'ave some new clothes for you to wear. Yours is too tight for you anyways, your stomach is sticking out slightly."

As I lowered myself into the shallow depths, I let this woman who I once considered cruel and conceited to recolor my hair. I was only one foot into the water, bur it would cover up all of my disguise.

Her gentle fingertips, after telling me to let it dry in my hair before washing out, brushed across my stomach. She shook her head, making me a bit worried.

"What is it?" I gasped, "what's wrong?"

She wasn't sure whether to be frightened or happy for me.

"Mee'sa Daae, you are with child." she simply said.


	8. Chapter 8

**Christine's POV**

"Vicomte deChagney, I present my cousin, Jeanette. Her husband died a while back, leaving her with a not quite born child, and she'a needs vork." Carlotta was presenting me. Smugly, she smiled my way.

I nodded.

"Yes sir," I was surprised at how well I pulled off an italian accent, "I come from Italy. I will work as a maid if you would prefer."

He smiled sympathetically.

"You poor girl. I will gladly take you under my wing at my manor. I have plenty of chores. But first, I want to show you something. It's my grandest trophy. You'll be in charge of dusting its' room." he replied softly. I missed when Raoul talked like that to me in our youth.

Right then and there I had to remind myself that the Raoul I had known and even loved is dead. Instead, a kidnapping, ludicrous monster was in his place.

As he led me down the hall, into the darkest stairwell. I braced myself, for what trophy had Raoul kept down here without telling me?

I was carrying Erik's child, that was one thing I knew for certain. It wasn't Raoul's. I prayed that the trophy wasn't a mauled body.

Raoul lit a large candle, illuminating the room in dim light.

"Back so soon, Vicomte? Back for my taunting?"

Erik! Oh god, what had they done to him? He was bloody, swollen, and bruised from head to toe, but even now he was struggling to stand. He was inside a glass...tank of sorts, build onto the wall. Even still he was sneering viscously at both Raoul and I.

"Brought back your new wife? You inhuman, bloody bastard!" Erik continued like a viper. I bit my lip from crying out. Even in this disguise, he didn't recognize me! It was probably for the better.

"Now you back off, bone face! This is your maid, she will clean your room for you. You are expected to be gentle with her, she's pregnant and you don't stress out women who are under such laborious states. Now Miss Jeanette, to cleaning with you. I'll be back in three hours." Raoul growled, then vanished back up the stairs. I waited until I couldn't hear his footsteps anymore to begin dusting.

Erik was grinning at me with this witty look on his face.

"Jeanette, that's your name? It's French, not Italian, so who are you really?"

My eyes popped wider in shock. How did he guess so easily? He had seen right through my disguise.

"Erik," I whispered, "it's me. I came to get you out of here. But you must spare me some time."

I think he broke a fuse in his brain. Dumbfounded, he scanned me over with his bright gold eyes.

"Christine? The hell-what...what are you doing here? You'll be killed! Pregnant? Tell me this is a joke. You're going to have a fop's child." he angrily whispered back.

I was shocked. No! Why would he think that?

"Erik. The baby's yours. Gustave is going to have a whole other sibling. Now, how do I get you out of here?"

We heard footsteps again suddenly, and I returned to dusting. Erik seemed to cool down, and he went back to his fake boredom. Raoul returned earlier than he was supposed to.

"I have brought a powerful magician for your hypnosis, Erik, isn't this exciting!? Sorry, Mademoiselle Jeanette, I did not mean to interrupt your cleaning so early. You may watch if you'd prefer."

Erik's eyes pleadingly went to me. I shook my head nervously. I didn't know what to do! Should I risk exposing our positions, or have Raoul harm both of us?

This magician sat Erik into a strapped chair. I couldn't watch as my love struggled to free himself. I walked out of the room and went to go check on Carlotta, who was in...a child's bedroom.

"Carlotta?" I called. She looked sadly up from a child who looked exactly like a little Raoul.

"Oh, Mees'a Jeanette. You don't know what you've gotten into. Once your child is'a born, Raoul won't let it leave, and if it's a girl, he will force his bebe here to marry yours."

I nodded, knowing the severity of her accomplice's warning. Raoul had forced his maid, Carlotta, to bear a child in my absence.

"We're done, Jeanette. Come down and clean some more." There he was, calling me again.

What I dreaded more than ever was when I heard the notes of a piano grow louder with every step. I knew Raoul could play piano, but it wasn't downright brilliant.

When I reached the bottom of the staircase again, someone grabbed me.

"Ha! Thought I was stupid, huh Christine! Look at your lover now! He cannot disobey any of my orders now that he's under such heavy hypnosis!"

No! This couldn't be happening! I cried out, fighting back, but Raoul slapped me across the face with his rough hands.

"You made a bed with him, you can lie on it, alone!" he snapped. Erik didn't stop playing, his fingers gliding across the keys, but his head turned in my direction.

"Erik! Do something! Stop him!" I cried out as my former husband began to drag me up the stairs. Erik shook his head tearily.

"I-I can't dishonor my master's wish for me to play. Christine, I'm sorry." he murmured, guiltily looking away.

"No! No! He's not your-"

I was cut off by Raoul again, who with the back of his hand, lashed it against my jawline, rendering me unable to do anything but sob violently.

"You shut it, you wench! You want to raise his child, fine, you'll do it on your own! Locked up in your old bedroom! Don't even think about suicide, I will kill the child if you do. I have your precious beast under my complete control, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

With that, he threw me, as he said he would, in my bedroom. I pounded on the door, only to realize he had indeed locked it. I crumpled to my knees, sobbing deliriously with my hands on my face.

From outside the door, I heard voices.

"Erik, I want you to go cater to our dinner party guests tonight. Make sure that the dining room you select is as far from Christine and her childish bellowing." Raoul growled.

"Yes sir. I understand." Erik replied. I heard footsteps. They were coming towards me? No, it couldn't be, for through slot in the door a plate was pushed through.

"Christine. I thought it would work. I'm sorry. Here'sa dinner. I will figure sometheeng out." It was Carlotta. But before I could thank her for her attempt to help me, she was gone.  
*****

**Gustave's POV**

My parents didn't come back for three years. I was twelve now, and yet still they had 't shown up through the door.

Meg and Nadir took over as "Mister Y". They took over the name in honor of my papa, who they now believed were dead. Grandmama Giry was my normal caretaker, teaching me all about music.

She sat us all down for dinner, when grievingly she began to tell a story.

"My family, Meg, Nadir, and our little Gustave. I think it's time to know the truth, now that Christine and Erik are dead and gone." she mused.

"Okay, maman," Meg replied, smiling my way. She was trying to cheer me up. I had loved both my parents, even though I hadn't gotten to know my real papa for long.

"When I was 37 years old, I left my homeland of Germany to see the sights of Sweden. I met a tour guide whose name was Gustave Daae." Grandma Giry began.

"You mean my grandpa?" I asked. She sighed.

"Yes. Your grandpa. Where was I? I soon found I liked this man as a best friend. We spent time together, then we discovered we were in love. I gave birth to twins. But I was betrothed to another man who I resented, so I left one of my daughters with Gustave Daae. Her name was Christine. I raised the other, Meg, on my own."

Meg's eyes widened in shock, and she seemed to boil.

"You mean, Christine was my sister? You said my twin died at birth! I wondered why you took Christine in when she was supposedly an orphan!" Meg cried. Nadir reached and pulled her sobbing figure into his embrace.

"Well, now she's gone, and I never got to tell her." Grandmama Giry then rose and sulkily left her dinner plate untouched, leaving the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Erik's POV**

I struggled with my task as the deChagney butler. I hated snobbish upper class scumbags.

And I couldn't see Christine often enough. It killed me even more to hear my child, Lillian, playing with Raoul's child, Frederick. It in fact disgusted me. How she laughed and cheered with him. Unfortunately, I have never seen her myself, for Frederick goes to visit her in the bedroom she's kept away in.

To drown out my pain, I would play music in my spare time.

"Erik. Stop."

My hands dropped to my sides as I turned to face my master.

"Yes, Vicomte?" I asked.

"I am going out on a business affair. Read this schedule and read it well. And do not, under any circumstance, mess with any workers unless it is under schedule. You are my most trusted servant, Monsieur Erik. Do not disobey me."

Yes! This was my chance! I nodded and smiled.

"Of course, sir. You may lay your trust on me." I reassured. He patted my forehead, making me bite my cheek to keep from scowling. I was not a pet!

"Good boy. Now, Carlotta will look after Frederick and my two prisoners. Don't interfere with any of Carlotta's jobs."

I nodded again.

"Of course, sir. Wouldn't dare to disappoint you."

I watched him until he was out of sight. Until I couldn't hear the clopping of horse drawn carriage. Until he was...gone.

I grinned cheerily.

"No more rules! No more beatings! No more hypnosis! No more RAOUL!" I squealed, dizzily doing a short twirl.

I marched right down the hall and grabbed the handle for Christine's bedroom. Raoul had hidden the key, clearly. God almighty, I would have to solve this another way.

"Christine!" I called into the bedroom. I slid open the small slot, peering in. I met Christine's eyes, which were dull and full of sadness, but they brightened when they realized I was there.

"Erik! Is that really you?" she whimpered.

"Yes. I'm here now, and everything is going to be okay! I'm getting us out of here. You get to the furthermost point of the room, and take Lilian with you. I am going to shoot the lock off."

I closed the slot and rushed a few doors down to the armory. There were so many weapons on the walls! I snatched a pistol, and without another word prayed it was full of ammunition, dashing back to Christine's bedroom.

I pulled the trigger.

**Christine's POV**

Bang! I looked up from where I had ducked with my daughter. The door swung open.

There I saw Erik. He sounded the same, acted the same, but he didn't look the same. I remembered every detail of him from when we were together. His white mask, his golden eyes, those few strands from his wig that would always be looser than the others.

Instead, he was wearing a mask of pure white porcelain, the soft color of freshly fallen snow, it was black, and emotionless as his eyes. His eyes were no longer that golden color that always left you in curiosity and awe, they were dull, lifeless. His hair was slicked back, no tufts or even a single hair misplaced off his wig. His tuxedo looked tight and uncomfortable, but he was still my tall, dark, handsome true love.

"Oh Erik, it is you!" I cried in joy. His sullen look turned to happiness, and he placed the gun in a holster.

"Christine." he mused, approaching me slowly. I didn't hesitate to pick up Lilian into my arms.

Their eyes met. My little Lilian, with my blue green eyes and his black hair. She was an angel in herself.

Suddenly arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me into a hug, my baby girl sandwiched in between us. I sighed in relief. I knew Erik would love our daughter.

"We best not dillydally. The Vicomte will look for us...I need my mask. Not this crummy, fancy fop one. Pack what you must. We are leaving." he cordially turned away and left me there, rummaging for a bag and putting my few articles of clothing into it.

**Gustave's POV**

"Please let us in!"

I heard Uncle Nadir groan from his bedroom. There was immense knocking on the front door, and the sound of a baby or toddler crying. I smacked my pillow against my ears, trying to drown it out, but the delirious sobbing only grew louder and louder.

"Open the door, please!"

I rose from my bedside, tucking my ruffled shirt down, and watched Uncle Nadir walking past our rooms from a crack in the doorway.

Silently, I followed him, watching as he yawned, going to the front door. Whoever it was, they were desperately pounding on the door.

He swung it open, only to gasp in alarm. I peeked out from behind him.

"Nadir! Thank god-" It was my papa! He was cut off by Nadir.

"Oh Allah, Erik! Christine! We thought you were dead."

"Mama!" I flung myself into my mother's arms. The dress she wore was tattered, and her arms were covered in minor cuts and bruises. She squeezed me tight, crying gently. I looked up into the eyes of Mister Y, who was smiling feebly back.

"Where have you been? I missed you both so much!" I cried. My mother turned my attention to her as she let go of her hug.

"Raoul had us, baby, he trapped us and wouldn't let us go. We're here now. Meet your little sister, Lilian."

The moment I would meet my sister changed my life course completely. For her face was the face of heavenly angels. I promised I would protect her.

She would need it...much later on...

* * *

**And this marks the last chapter I will write involving Gustave's childhood. POV switches mainly will be between Gustave, Lilian, and a new character.**

**First person to guess the relative of this new character will be mentioned as a former classmate of Lilian's. On your mark...get set...go! Happy writing~**


	10. Chapter 10

**Lilian's POV**

I was seventeen years old.

When I was three, and this I vaguely remember, there was always this little boy's voice calling my name. A little boy, a year older than me. I never see his face, I have long forgotten it, but it's that sweet, gentle ring in his voice that has always captivated my soul.

Whoever it was, I didn't need them anymore. I had gotten over my attempts to coax my mother into revealing the boy's name. I didn't need another boy, for I had Karim.

Who is Karim, you ask? Karim is my uncle Nadir's nephew. He's my age. When he was eight, his parents were murdered. The Shah of Persia did not like the boy so he sent him to his outcasted uncle. We were bonded ever since.

First as best friends, now I prayed he'd ask. I'd be his in a heartbeat.

I was in senior year at Coney High. Tomorrow was the annual ball they held for us seniors. My heart was pounding as Karim smiled at me from beside me.

I grinned cheekily, brushing a few locks of hair from my face, when I realized it wasn't Karim, it was the new kid. I didn't know his name yet.

"Don't you recognize me?" the boy asked softly. Before I could tell him no, Mrs. McAlester was announcing a final exam report. I began to jot down notes, when out of the corner of my eye I caught the new boy staring at me in a leering manner.

I shook the thought away, but I could almost remember such similar details. Where did I know this boy?

Karim nudged me from our joint desk.

"Lilian, you're drifting off in space. I'll do Calculus problems A, C, and E, if you'll do B, D, and F?" he mused angelically. I nodded, snapping from my dreamy trance and beginning to write again.

**Gustave's POV**

I was now 30. You could say time flew too fast, or wondering, "Well, where's the story of Gustave's childhood?" To be truthful, when my parents came home, Mister Y didn't treat me like a boy or an average worker. He was becoming frail, and he and I had both known he would not be able to take care of his park for much longer.

I became a man when I was thirteen. When I was twenty-two, I became the owner of Phantasma, and ran it ever since. I knew that once Karim and Lilian were married, their son would run the park. I decided this wasn't too shabby an idea and I hoped my beloved sister would sooner or later be with my uncle's nephew, for the pair were inseparable since they first laid eyes upon each other.

As for my papa and mama, they got married after they came back home. Not a word have they spoken about their three years kept hostage to me. I didn't question it.

But they were lucky parents of mine. When Lilian was six, they had twins, a little brunette girl named Ambrosia and a boy named Charleston. When the two became seven, the youngest child was born, another girl named Lynette.

I adored my new siblings very much, but I began to realize I too was getting lonely on my own. I feared now I'd be condemned to a fate my father had before I entered his life, unloved and forever alone in the dark.

I was working on an automaton, when my papa walked into the Aerie. He snorted, the stubborn man he was.

"And what is this garbage supposed to be?" he asked. I scowled, disgruntled by his blunt arrogance.

"A new roller coaster cart. The one for The Steam Monster is broken down." I sharply replied. He laughed, which took me by surprise.

"How about I fix it and you go look for a lady?" he chuckled. Before I could object, his skinny hands snatched the wrench and began to correct a loose bolt.

He was still smiling, but he seemed weary and somewhat sad.

"Oh Gustave, what a lonely child you had been, and what a lonely man you are now. Go socialize for once. Don't be like me." he sighed, fixing his mask to make it upright.

"But Papa, I am just like you. What if there's no one out there for me?" I objected. He sighed once more, only starting to irritate me.

"Son, there is someone who will love you. More than I love your mother. She's still, and I can tell, afraid of my face after thirty years of being in love. You're young, handsome, and brilliantly talented, Gustave. One lucky lady out there is waiting for you to ask her the words and she will follow you forever."

Without another word, my papa left me in the cold silence of the Aerie. When I at last heard his footsteps far ahead of me, I knew what he said was completely true. I needed someone true and loyal and fair.

I needed a family of my own.

* * *

**TOTALLY SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE. I have been terribly busy. Please leave a review, it only takes five seconds and I read and respond to every single one. Reviews keep this story going. Thank you my loyal readers, and happy writing~**


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